Different
by Smrtypantz
Summary: Harry Potter AU. Arthur is the son of purebloods. The problem? He himself is a half-blood. He becomes self-loathing, trying to immerse himself in the dark arts…that is, until, he meets a hyperactive, overly-confident boy in Gryffindor named Alfred.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This is a Hetalia/Harry Potter crossover fic written for **oresame** on livejournal for the USxUK Secret Santa Exchange 2010 :) The prompts were: "Harry Potter verse with Slytherin or Ravenclaw!England and Gryffindor or Hufflepuff!America" and "Gakuen AU, becoming a new couple".

Enjoy~

* * *

**Different**

**Chapter 1**

Arthur was…different. Had always been "different".

For example, he was the only person in his immediate family that had green eyes. He was also a studious character, very unlike his brothers who enjoyed victory through roughhousing rather than victory through wits. This was not to say that Arthur couldn't hold his own in a fight. With three older brothers, one had to learn proper defense.

But this was all irrelevant. Small differences in physical appearance or personality do not constitute being singled out. Yes, Arthur was singled out from the rest of his family for one very, very important difference.

His family members were pureblood.

He was a half-blood.

And Arthur loathed this fact more than anything else.

* * *

"…And I expect you all to be on your best behavior, you hear? Now, off to bed, the lot of you!" Arthur commanded the fresh batch of first-years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They scattered amongst themselves, fleeing to their bedrooms in a state of confusion and nervousness. They would soon familiarize themselves with the school, Arthur knew.

"Arthur, you jerk, it's not even 11!"

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. His little brother Peter was now a first-year and in the same house, Slytherin. As if he didn't have enough to deal with. A few hours into the beginning of the year and he already had an enormous headache. Arthur was a newly appointed prefect, in this 5th year at Hogwarts, and yet he was the only one doing all the work! The others abused their power, and Arthur felt like he was the only one who was taking his job seriously.

With a big sigh, Arthur glared at his younger brother and said, "You don't _have_ to go to bed, but you have your first classes tomorrow morning, so I'm _advising_ you to go to bed now."

Peter glared right back and mumbled, "Well this fuckin' sucks…"

"No one said it would be a walk in the park, Peter! Now bugger off!" Arthur shouted before plopping down in the nearest armchair. Peter stuck his tongue out before scurrying away to the first-year dormitories.

In front of Arthur was a fireplace, which cast eerie shadows along the walls of the Slytherin common room. Arthur felt too tired to go through another year of school. His older brother Conor had graduated last year. Arthur thought he'd finally be free of his brothers after that, but no, Peter just had to turn 11 and that damn owl just had to show up with a letter for Peter accepting him to Hogwarts. Although Peter was annoying nearly one hundred percent of the time, at least he wasn't one of Arthur's three older brothers.

Arthur had an uneasy feeling in his chest whenever he thought about them. Stewart, Wynn, and Conor, from oldest to youngest, respectively. All three were his older brothers who would pick on him mercilessly while at home _and_ at school. A chill nearly ran down his spine as he thought about the three of them, causing him to unconsciously lean towards the flames before him. At least Arthur had some power over his relationship with Peter, albeit a very small amount.

The silence of the common room rang loudly in his ears after a few minutes. Everyone had gone to bed, no doubt full and sleepy after the enormous feast in the Great Hall. Arthur felt his own eyelids begin to droop, his head slowly bending forward into his chest. Quickly shaking off sleep, Arthur stood up and walked towards his own bed. As Arthur entered, he noticed everyone else was sound asleep. As quietly as he could, Arthur began to undress and crept under the covers. With a gentle breath, he blew out the candle by his bedside and fell asleep.

* * *

Arthur did enjoy his newly found authority. He found it wonderfully empowering to command the halls. Although the first night as a prefect had been tiresome, he had to admit that during the past few weeks, his job was actually enjoyable. As he walked by, everyone straightened their ties and tried to seem as if they were on their best behavior. Arthur enjoyed these reactions and would put on an expression of approval at everyone's behavior.

The only thing that made the job less enjoyable was the paperwork if someone misbehaved. It wasn't enough to bring inappropriate behavior up with the head of the house. Now it had to be filed, which Arthur felt was completely unnecessary. Why not just discipline the student and be done with it? But sadly, that could not be the case. All acts of misbehavior were to be recorded, as well as the received punishment. If this was violated, there could be some legal consequences. Security had gotten much tighter ever since authorities in the ministry found out about the abuse students has suffered years ago, during the Second Wizarding War.

So, Arthur found himself with an enormous stack of paperwork headed to the headmaster's office. It felt heavy in his hands, and he was cautious as his fingers curled around the edges of the paper, lest he get a papercut if he were careless.

The headmaster was a former Herbology professor and a hero during the Second Wizarding War, a man by the name of Neville Longbottom. He was a truly kind figure and a strong leader, but Arthur really had no opinion on the man.

As Arthur ascended to Professor Longbottom's office, he heard a discussion taking place. The papers in his hand were growing heavy, so he decided to knock and let himself in.

A boy around Arthur's age was sitting in the chair in front of Professor Longbottom's desk. That part wasn't what struck Arthur as unusual, however. The unusual part was that the boy was just about to place the Sorting Hat on his head. All three heads (Professor Longbottom, the boy, and the Sorting Hat itself) turned to look at Arthur as he awkwardly stood in the entranceway to the office.

"Oh, um, I'm terribly sorry if I was interrupting something important, headmaster!" Arthur said quickly, shuffling inside and putting the stack of papers to where they needed to go. "I'll just be one my way, if you'll excuse me…" he said while backing away, about to make a dash for the door.

"Don't worry, Mr. Kirkland, I'm actually glad you're here," Professor Longbottom said, prompting Arthur to turn around and look his headmaster in the face. "This boy," the headmaster said, gesturing to boy in front of him, "is a new student here at Hogwarts. A transfer student from America. I'd like you go give him a tour of the castle, if you don't mind."

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "Oh! I wouldn't mind at all, sir."

Professor Longbottom smiled. "Very well, then. Alfred, why don't you put the Sorting Hat down? We can sort you at another time. Just follow Arthur and he'll give you a tour of the grounds."

The boy, or Alfred, placed the Sorting Hat back down on the headmaster's desk, saying, "Sure thing!" and quickly got up and stood next to Arthur. He stood a little too closely for Arthur's tastes.

"Well," Arthur said, turning to face Alfred who was only two inches taller, "why don't you follow me, Alfred?" He turned towards the exit, making sure to say goodbye and give his thanks to the headmaster before departing.

Once both he and Alfred were a few feet away from the headmaster's entranceway, Alfred let out a big sigh. "Man, it was really stuffy in there! I felt like I could hardly breathe. And did you see all those plants everywhere? That guy must be seriously lonely if he needs all those plants to keep him company. I mean, seriously, did you see-"

"_Ahem_," Arthur coughed into his fist, interrupting Alfred's little ramble. "That is Headmaster Longbottom and I would appreciate it if you did not insult him or his office. Now then, my name is Arthur Kirkland. I belong to the house of Slytherin and I'm a fifth-year prefect, which means if I catch you misbehaving, I have the authority to take away points from whichever house you belong to, as well as bring you to a higher power to punish you for inappropriate behavior. I expect you to treat me with respect as well as the other students and faculty who reside here and I would appreciate it if you could keep quiet for the duration of this tour. I'm very busy and I'd like this to go over quickly. Thank you." Arthur closed his eyes in a sense of achievement. It seems as if the boy knew his place, and Arthur would make sure it continued this way.

However, his small victory was quickly crushed when Alfred mumbled, "Gee, who shoved a stick up your ass?"

Speechless for just a moment, Arthur sputtered, "Excuse me?"

Alfred responded, "You heard me. Who shoved a stick up your ass? No need to be so uptight, dude."

Arthur glared. "First of all, I am not 'dude'. And secondly, that is hardly appropriate language to use around here."

Alfred seemed to ignore everything Arthur had just said and stuck out his hand instead. "By the way, my name's Alfred, Alfred F. Jones from the good ol' United States of America! Pleasure to meet your acquaintance!" Arthur, in turn, ignored the hand and stalked away.

"You better follow quickly, Jones, because I'm only giving this tour once."

"It's 'Alfred'!" he shouted before quickly running up behind Arthur, ready for the tour to begin…

* * *

**A/N:** Life has been hectic, what with this being my first year of college and some things going on at home, so I haven't really been writing a lot of fanfiction lately, especially usuk, which I used to write all the time. I'm really sorry for that :(

Although I love Harry Potter, I've never written or read Harry Potter fanfiction and I might be a little shaky on certain details about the wizarding world (since it's been about two years since I've read one of the books in the series). If I get any facts wrong, please feel free to inform me!

Also, Neville becoming headmaster has become my own personal headcannon after the fic "Specialis Revelio", so I've adopted that idea here.

Anyway, I really hope you've all enjoyed the first installment! Happy holidays! :)

PS: Stewart- Scotland, Wynn- Wales, and Conor- Ireland


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Just to clarify, I noticed that some people were confused in regards to Arthur being a half-blood while his family members are all pureblood. There _is_ a background story to Arthur's situation, but that will be revealed later in the story :) My apologies if there is any confusion, but I just don't want to give away plot points. If you have questions and would like to understand the background better, you can always shoot me a PM! :)

And also, I wanted to thank all of you for your reviews, favorites, and alerts! They've made me really happy :)

So, without further ado, enjoy!

* * *

**Different**

**Chapter 2**

After that tour, Arthur was fairly sure he'd never see the likes of Alfred ever again unless he was placed in Slytherin. The boy was definitely a chatter-box and it had been extremely difficult to grab (and keep) his attention throughout the tour. Alfred was unsure of what classes he'd be taking, so Arthur ended up showing him practically every classroom throughout the castle. By the end of the tour, Arthur felt his legs were about to buckle beneath him. Alfred, however, appeared to be a never-ending ball of pure energy and was flying up and down the moving stairs like an overly-excited pixie.

Everything about Hogwarts seemed to amaze Alfred. It was as if he had never seen magic before. Well, apparently, magic was practiced differently in the United States than in England. To Alfred, the wizarding world in England was very old, "practically ancient" as Alfred said himself. Alfred kept pointing at the hats and robes of the students, snickering to himself about how "18th century" the wizards and witches of England were.

Well, pardon his French, but Arthur felt that was a load of bullocks. The witches and wizards of England were most certainly _not_ "18th century", thank you very much. Robes were very much in fashion, and new styles came out nearly every year. But apparently, robes just weren't good enough for Americans. They dressed like Muggles, according to Alfred. While there was nothing inherently wrong with wearing Muggle clothing, to dislike robes and not wear them at all was utterly ridiculous and improper.

Arthur smirked, however, every time Alfred tripped over his own robes, a tad too long for him. Perhaps that was why Alfred was complaining about them so much…

There were other aspects of Alfred that got on Arthur's nerves quite a bit. For one thing, it was that dreadful accent. It grated his ears every time he heard Alfred speak, which was often. Arthur wasn't sure from which region in the United States Alfred was from, but whatever region it was, the people there ought to be ashamed for how they completely bastardized the English language. Alfred was thoroughly impressed with Arthur's English accent, however, and kept commenting on just about every word that passed through his mouth.

Arthur had dropped Alfred back to the headmaster's office after the tour. Alfred almost seemed to pout a little, but he perked right back up, slapped Arthur on the back (with quite a lot of force), and told him he'd see him around later.

Well, not to be rude, but Arthur was fairly certain he'd never allow himself to stand even three feet near that boy again. Alfred's ego and presence were humungous. He was boisterous and obnoxious, and nearly everyone stared as the two of them walked along the halls during the tour. Arthur knew he wouldn't be caught dead hanging around that boy ever again, but unfortunately for him, fate had other ideas in mind…if only he had taken Divination, perhaps he would have seen this coming.

* * *

"Hey! Arthur! Over here!" Alfred shouted, waving both of his arms in the air in a foolish attempt to grab Arthur's attention. Like Arthur would have needed Alfred's flailing arms to notice him. His voice was loud enough. They were in the Great Hall, and Arthur assumed that Alfred, like himself, was here to have supper. Rolling his eyes, Arthur was just about to confront Alfred when he noticed something about Alfred's appearance.

Alfred's tie was gold and crimson, as well as the insignia on his robes.

Ah. So he was in Gryffindor.

Pointedly turning around in the other direction, Arthur seated himself near the end of the Slytherin table. He could still hear Alfred trying to catch his attention behind him, but he tried his best to ignore the shouts.

Alfred approached the table five seconds later, frantically waving his hand in front of Arthur's face. "Hello? Earth to Arthur?"

"What?" Arthur shouted, fairly irritated at this point.

Alfred looked taken aback for a moment before readjusting his expression back to its signature smile. "Dude, I just wanted to know if you wanted to sit together for dinner or something," he said, almost as if he was oblivious to the situation.

Arthur leveled Alfred with a look that read, "Never in a million years", but it didn't register in the slightest. He promptly plopped himself next to Arthur, grabbed himself a plate and began piling food on top of it.

Furrowing his brows, Arthur asked, "Just what do you think you're doing?"

With a chicken wing in his mouth, Alfred's muffled reply was, "Eating."

"Well, anyone can see that!"

Arthur continued to look at the boy, who seemed to just shrug his shoulders and continue to eat as if he didn't notice the stares from everyone around him. "Oi, Alfred, you _do_ realize that you're sitting at the Slytherin table, don't you?"

Alfred turned his head to stare back at Arthur with a questioning look in his eyes. "Yeah, so?" he said. He continued to shovel food into his mouth.

"So?" Arthur asked, his eyes starting to widen a bit. "Alfred, are you aware that students in Gryffindor and Slytherin…don't get along too well?"

"Really?" Alfred asked, a bit of mashed potatoes lying on the corner of his lips. "Why?"

"I-I don't know why, we just find the other house…irritating" Arthur answered. "And you're not supposed to eat at the Slytherin table if you're in Gryffindor! You're only supposed to eat at the Gryffindor table. The house prefects need to be able to gather all of their house members in the event of an emergency, and you sitting here is problematic," Arthur finished, starting to feel the stares on his back that his peers were giving him. Quickly darting his eyes to the table full of students and back to Alfred, he then whispered, "Can't you see everyone staring at us?"

Alfred finally decided to take in his surroundings, turning his head to look down the table. "Oh, yeah, sorry, guess no one told me…"

Arthur sniffed. "Well, now you know."

"Yeah…well, catch you later then, Artie," Alfred said, gathering his plate and heading towards Gryffindor's table.

However, it took about three seconds too late for Arthur to realize the nickname he had just been given. Turning his head towards Alfred's retreating back, Arthur shouted, "My name is _not_ 'Artie!'"

That _should_ have been the last encounter between the two, but no, Alfred couldn't have that. He seemed to believe that Arthur didn't mind his presence and that the two of them were great friends, or something, because the next thing Arthur knew was that he was being followed by the moron everywhere he went. If he was walking to the library, Alfred would walk with him and sit down next to him at the table. If Arthur was walking to his class, Alfred would join him until he had to turn in the other direction for his own class. If Arthur was walking to the lavatories, Alfred would be right by his side, the entire fucking time.

It honestly felt like Alfred was a lost puppy who thought Arthur was his owner. Alfred was clinging to Arthur for some bizarre reason, and Arthur could hardly stand it.

Rounding a corner while turning his head in both directions, Arthur searched for any sign of Alfred. He was on his way to the library, wanting to read up on the properties of Devil's Snare roots for a potion he needed to make for class the next day. Hoping not to run into any airheads on the way, Arthur was paying careful attention to his surroundings. When the coast was deemed clear, he headed down the corridor to the library.

The musky scent of old texts nearly sent Arthur into a tizzy. He took in a deep breath, appreciating the smell. The library was a wonderful place, not just to study, but to simply relax, read, and pass the time. It was Arthur's favorite place in the entire school. Sometimes, Arthur would read late into the night on ancient texts and cultures, learning all about wizarding practices from around the globe. It would be difficult to find a job that would allow Arthur to do nothing but study the wizarding histories of these ancient civilizations, so he decided to take in as much information now while he had the chance. Besides, his family wasn't likely to approve of such an occupation…it would require further schooling, no doubt…and besides, gaining a high rank in the Ministry was much more important, and what he and his brothers were expected to vie for.

Running his fingers along the texts, Arthur finally found the book he was looking for. He sat down at a nearby table, searching through the index to find the exact properties he would be required to know. Too engrossed with what he was doing, Arthur failed to realize that a certain someone had decided to sit down next to him at that very moment.

It wasn't until a "hey, Arthur!" was whispered into his ear that he noticed the other's presence. The breath, which was both unexpected and tickled his ear, caused Arthur to jump on the spot. Clutching his chest, Arthur turned to glare at the culprit.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" Arthur whispered angrily, looking around to see if anyone was watching them.

"Just thought I'd sit down and study with you, dude," Alfred replied happily, once again oblivious to Arthur's irritation.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Arthur closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. As soon as he let it out, he asked, "Why must you always follow me?"

Alfred merely shrugged his shoulders. Arthur let out a sigh. His attempts to avoid Alfred had been unsuccessful, so the least he could do was suck it up and deal with the situation.

In an attempt to ignore Alfred, Arthur decided to pour over his book. The boy, however, didn't know a thing about a little something called "personal space" and decided to peer over Arthur's shoulder as he read. "Devil's Snare root, huh?" he said. "What, are you making a potion or somethin'?"

Muttering an irritated "yes", Arthur tried to shift away from Alfred's much-too-close head.

"Yeah, Devil's Snare root is pretty good when making certain poisons, like the one that constricts your throat, or the other one that constricts veins and stuff…" Alfred said, his voice suddenly taking on what Arthur could only describe as a logical and intelligent tone. Confused, Arthur turned towards Alfred.

"And why exactly do you know all this?" he asked, bewildered by this new side of Alfred.

"Huh? Well, it figures that Devil's Snare root deals with constricting. I mean, you probably already know about how Devil's Snare chokes victims and keeps growing as you struggle, so it only makes sense that the root has similar properties…But if you really are making a potion, make sure to never leave the roots by an open window or something. The light will mess up the root pretty badly," he explained. Soon after, Alfred moved his head away from peering over Arthur's shoulder to read his own book, entitled, "Astronomy: A Cosmic Perspective" and began to pour over its pages.

Confused beyond all reason, Arthur tapped Alfred's shoulder and asked, "What year are you in, by the way?"

Alfred looked up and smiled. "I'm technically a fourth-year here because I'm taking a bunch of fourth-year level classes," he said, digging through his pockets and procuring a schedule. Flattening it out on the desk, he began to explain, "But I've also got a History of Magic first-year class, and I don't have to take Transfiguration or Herbology, like, at all!" Alfred said happily. "They gave me a lot of practice tests and I completely blew those two away. Besides, I have credits from my W.O.L.F.s for those classes anyway. Also, I've got-"

"W.O.L.F.s?" Arthur interrupted. "What are those?"

"Oh, they're like O.W.L.s here, I guess. Stands for Wizarding Optimal Level Fulfilled," he answered.

"Ah, I didn't know that…" Arthur said as he knit his eyebrows together, taking in this new information. Just what were those American wizarding academies like?

"So yeah, my W.O.L.F.s covered those classes. I think I'm doing well in Potions here too, so I might move up to a fifth-year level. I really hope I do, that'd be freaking sweet!" he said excitedly as he looked at Arthur. Was Arthur expected to respond?

Coughing into his hand, Arthur replied, "Oh, uh, yes, that would be very good, I expect…"

Taking that as his queue to speak again, Alfred continued, "I also tried taking first-year Astronomy here because it sounded wicked awesome! But I found out yesterday that it's more like astrology than astronomy, so that majorly sucked," he said while pouting.

"Well, they're the same thing, aren't they?" Arthur asked.

"Of course not!" Alfred exclaimed with an affronted look on his face. "Astrology is complete bullshit if you ask me," he said, resting his head on his hand while frowning slightly.

Arthur felt slightly defensive after this last statement, however, even though he had never taken astronomy in his life. "Well, if you don't like the subject, don't take it!"

"Believe me, I didn't need to be told that twice…" Alfred laughed, lifting his head to look back down at his book.

It seemed as if Alfred was no longer going to talk, which came as quite a surprise to Arthur. Also, for once, they had completed what appeared to be a civil conversation. Turning back to his own book, Arthur poured over the properties of different plants he'd need for his potion tomorrow, but his mind was too distracted by what Alfred had told him.

He had never been interested in the United States and their world of magic before. Some of the things that went on in that country irritated him, while others amazed him. However, he was much too engrossed in the going-ons in Europe, and especially England, to be even remotely interested to finding out what went down across the Atlantic.

However, questions were now being raised in his head. Just how had Alfred transferred to Hogwarts, and why? What were the W.O.L.F.s like and what the hell did it matter the difference between astronomy and astrology? And, was it even possible that Jones was smarter than he let on?

Alfred obviously didn't know a thing about wizarding history and its origins in Europe if he had to take a first-year History of Magic class. Arthur wondered what the history of magic was like in America, what its origins were and how colonization had affected the practice of magic in both North and South America.

All of a sudden, Alfred was…interesting.

There was a ton of information that Arthur could gather from him, and he had a sudden urge to spew out questions then and there.

Self-control. Arthur just need a little bit of self-control. It seemed as if Alfred would be hanging around him for a while, so Arthur had plenty of time to ask a question here or there to find out more regarding the history of magic in America.

How Arthur wished he could study wizarding history for the rest of his life… Too bad his family would disapprove…

* * *

The next day, as expected, Arthur was accompanied by Alfred to his next class. What he hadn't expected, however, was for Alfred to continue following him down into the dungeons for Potions.

"Listen, Alfred, I know you're eager to see me to my classes for some odd reason, but it's very _annoying_ when you accompany me all the way the classroom," he said, glaring over his right shoulder at the slightly taller boy.

"Dude, don't flatter yourself," Alfred said while rolling his eyes. "I've got Potions next," he said, holding up the cauldron that had been in his hand the entire time.

Arthur's eyes widened. "What? You actually got into the fifth-year class?" he asked.

"Yeah, I know! I'm excited, I love Potions!" Alfred clutched his Potions textbook tightly to his chest, nearly bouncing by the time they reached the door of the classroom.

As they both entered, Professor Slughorn, a jolly old man (a very, _very_ old man) immediately hobbled over to Alfred's side. "Ah, Alfred, I see you've actually decided to move up a level!" Alfred smiled up at the Professor, answering him with a "yessir!", much to the delight of the elderly gentleman.

"Well then, m'boy, why don't you take a seat at this table here?" the Professor said as he guided Alfred and his belongings to a nearby table, the one Arthur also used.

As both student and professor set up the equipment, Arthur took out the notes he had made himself about each ingredient's properties and turned to the page in his textbook where the potion's instructions could be found. It was called "Constricting Solution" and it constricted the air flow of all who drank it. Alfred, then, had been right about the Devil's Snare roots. Looking back at his fellow classmate, he noticed that Alfred and the Professor were in a deep conversation about, well, _something_. Arthur really wasn't able to take it in. Something about a certain stirring technique used in antidotes…?

Arthur determinedly looked to his own cauldron and instructions. He set the flame at the perfect level and gathered all necessary ingredients. Potions wasn't his…strongest class. He always managed to screw up whatever he made somehow. No matter how hard he tried to perfect the art of brewing potions, he could never get them just right. His brothers once ran off scared after he made soup one day, thinking that it was quite possibly poison rather than a simple carrot stew. But then again, Arthur wasn't that great of a cook either, according to many, many people…

A half-hour later, after setting fire to his robes twice, Arthur was certain he should probably never be allowed near a stove in general. Coughing and waving his hand in front of his face of the umpteenth time that day, Arthur glared to where Alfred was brewing his Constricting Solution with practiced ease, as if he had done this a thousand times. Huffing, Arthur attempted to fix his mess of a potion and began to stir clockwise, as the instructions dictated. Or was it counterclockwise? How could anyone possibly keep track of all these damn instructions, anyhow?

By the end of class, Arthur was feeling particularly murderous. He had failed to complete his potion, even though he had studied all of the ingredients the day before. No matter what he did, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not for the life of him brew a proper potion. Sighing, Arthur gathered his belongings into his arms and headed out of the classroom. He closed his eyes, thinking about a cup of tea he was going to make as soon as he got back to the Slytherin dormitories…

But his thoughts were interrupted, once again, by Alfred. "Dude, you totally failed in class today! Did you singe your eyebrows off?" he asked while running up to Arthur.

Arthur sent him a look that read "back-off-or-I'll-murder-you-in-your-sleep", but it went past Alfred, yet again. "Anyway, Artie, I was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner and sit somewhere else. You know, like, not at a table so we won't be breaking any of those stupid rules and stuff!"

"Jones…" Arthur said slowly.

"Yeah? And it's Alfred, by the way," he corrected.

Arthur breathed in deeply. "Why the fuck do you keep harassing me?" he asked, stopping in his tracks.

"Huh?" was Alfred's intelligent reply. "I dunno, I guess I just like hanging out with you and stuff? You're a pretty weird guy. Interesting, but weird," he answered.

"In case you haven't noticed, Jones, I don't particularly enjoy your company," Arthur stated, his voice low and steady. "Nor do you seem to have realized that you're _still_ in Gryffindor and I'm _still_ in Slytherin, and therefore everyone keeps giving us looks!" He said, whipping his head around to catch a few people who had been whispering to themselves about the both of them.

"Yeah, well, I haven't really made many friends, you know…" Alfred said glumly.

"Then form a study group or join the Quidditch team or something!" Arthur shouted, waving an arm in the air for emphasis.

"You guys have a Quidditch team?" Alfred asked, his mood having suddenly picked up as his eyes widened at this new piece of information.

"Well of course we have a Quidditch team! Now let me be, I'm very busy…" Arthur said as he stormed off to the Slytherin dormitories.

A few days later, Gryffindor held try-outs for new Quidditch team members. Alfred was their new keeper. And boy, did everyone love Alfred then.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for reading! Critiques are loved!


	3. Chapter 3

**Different**

**Chapter 3**

Arthur only struggled more and more in Potions. There was a lot to learn and very little time, especially with the O.W.L.s hanging over his head. It wasn't that Arthur didn't know the properties of the ingredients…he just didn't have a proper handling on the techniques. When he read the techniques required in his textbook, he understood it perfectly. But in front of a cauldron? That was a very different story.

When faced with the bubbling solution, something in Arthur's mind went…blank. All of a sudden, everything he knew about brewing the potion flew out of his head. He found himself checking the textbook twice, even thrice, and he would _still_ make mistakes. And even when he double-checked what he was doing, he would realize the instructions read, "Make sure you immediately do so-and-so," which Arthur, of course, hadn't done. If the bloody recipe had bolded the text, perhaps, then maybe Arthur wouldn't have screwed up!

But as the year wore on, the techniques were becoming more complicated. More magic was required, even the use of his wand several times in order to properly prepare the ingredients. He sometimes had no idea what to add now that some of the potions were becoming "skill based", as Professor Slughorn liked to put it. Skill based potions, to put it simply, were potions that had shortened instructions because there were certain procedures you were just expected to know how to perform, some ingredients you were expected to know how to prepare, and so on and so forth.

It did nothing but give Arthur a headache and a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that, for the first time in his life, he was failing.

And that moronic, egotistical, air-headed golden boy named Alfred F. Jones was Professor Slughorn's star pupil.

Damn it all to hell.

It didn't help matters that his brother Stewart had excelled in potions when he went to Hogwarts. Wynn and Conor had done relatively well, and Peter had already come up to him exclaiming that Potions was probably his favorite class. It was just another disappointment his family would have when it came to him.

Arthur sighed. It seemed he had no other choice. He was doing well in every subject except for this one, and he wasn't a fool. He realized he needed help, and he needed it fast. Walking through the corridor to the Potions room in the dungeon, Arthur contemplated exactly how he would approach Professor Slughorn with his problem. 'You see, sir, it has come to my attention that I might be a tad bit behind my classmates' or 'I regret to inform you that the material this year is far more complex than previously expected' or 'I have no fucking clue how to brew potions'.

With those thoughts in mind, Arthur tentatively knocked on the door to the classroom. With no immediate response, Arthur opened the door and let himself in.

There, sitting in a chair by Professor Slughorn's desk, was Alfred. Both men were engrossed in a conversation about who-knows-what, and Arthur felt a sense of déjà vu from when he had walked in on Alfred and the headmaster only a few weeks before.

Arthur went unnoticed by both student and professor, so he coughed slightly into this hand to gain their attention. Both whipped their heads around immediately at the noise.

"Oh, Mr. Kirkland, do come in, my son!" chirped Professor Slughorn happily while gesturing to his desk. "Alfred and I were just discussing the latest potion my advanced seventh-year class is currently brewing. I must say, this boy has such a future in potions ahead of him!" The professor looked proudly at his star pupil, his eyes shining. Alfred smiled back at the professor, and then up at Arthur.

Arthur quickly averted his eyes. Ever since Alfred had joined the Quidditch team, he hadn't been following Arthur around at all. For once, he must've figured out that Arthur couldn't stand his presence. Alfred _had_, in fact, made many friends in Gryffindor due to his new status. His first year here, technically, and he had already made the team. And not only that, but he was American, a foreigner with admittedly good looks and a charming smile that made every girl in the school swoon. Alfred, apparently, was showing a lot of potential on the field during the Gryffindor team's practices. Arthur couldn't imagine just how great his ego had gotten with all this added attention.

But Arthur couldn't help feeling awkward with Alfred's eyes on him. After all, he had pretty much told Alfred to back off and leave him alone. Not to mention the fact that Arthur was still interested in finding out more about American wizarding culture.

Arthur looked back up at his professor. Well, he certainly didn't want to have a conversation about failing Potions with Alfred sitting right there. "U-um, professor, sir, I really need to speak with you about something…" he said, rubbing one of his arms nervously.

"Well then, talk away!"

"In private, sir…" Arthur said, finally looking to Alfred. Professor Slughorn nodded, and sent Alfred to wait on the other side of the classroom.

Still aware of Alfred's presence, and quite disappointed that Professor Slughorn hadn't made Alfred leave the classroom at the very least, Arthur leaned in towards the professor and spoke quietly, "Sir, I appear to be having…trouble with Potions this year. I-I haven't managed to brew a single successful potion, and I'm trying very hard, but I was wondering if there was any way you could offer me some extra help?" Arthur bit his bottom lip.

Professor Slughorn chuckled. "Is that it? You sounded so serious, Mr. Kirkland! Alfred, come here, why don't you?" he said. Alfred walked over and stood before Arthur and the professor. "Alfred, can you help tutor Mr. Kirkland? He seems to be having trouble with Potions, and I've seen you two hang around before! I'm sure you'll whip him into a potions master in no time!"

"Sure thing, Professor!" Alfred said happily.

Arthur felt like someone had just told him he'd have to dance around the Slytherin common room naked.

His throat was caught, and for a second he couldn't say how much he disagreed with this decision. "U-uh, professor, are you sure-"

Before Arthur could get a word in edgewise, Professor Slughorn had already shakily stood up to pat Alfred on the shoulder, excitedly conversing about how Alfred would no doubt do an excellent job of preparing Arthur for the upcoming O.W.L.s. Arthur wanted to bang his head against a rock.

How could he have not seen this coming? Why couldn't he have just asked the Professor for help when Alfred _wasn't_ in the room? He didn't need to be tutored by someone as bigheaded as Alfred. This would only add to his image of self-importance, not to mention it would take away Arthur's dignity.

But it was too late. The decision had been made, and Arthur felt like an outcast between the two men before him, discussing tutoring methods and different books to use, as if Arthur wasn't there.

* * *

"Man, Artie, I knew you were bad at potions, but I didn't know you were _this_ bad!" Alfred said to Arthur as they walked away from the Potions classroom. Alfred and Professor Slughorn had gotten into a very intense conversation about the use of bibblestem extract, nearly putting Arthur to sleep. While Arthur was dozing, apparently, Professor Slughorn had decided to reveal Arthur's scores so far for the semester.

"…he says you're doing so freakin' badly with the potions, but that all your essays and junk are, like, really detailed and perfect. That's the opposite of me. Give me instructions and I'll brew you a kickass potion, but give me a writing assignment, and you're lucky if it's even worth a C+!"

Although Arthur hadn't been listening too much to Alfred's rambling, the C+ part grabbed his attention. "What's a C+? Don't you mean a P? Or perhaps a D?" Arthur asked.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot that you guys use some weird wizarding grading system…what does P stand for again?"

"It stands for Poor, you dolt," Arthur answered. "What does a C stand for? And why the plus?"

Alfred laughed. "The C doesn't stand for anything, and the plus is there because, well, a C+ is better than just a regular old C."

"What do you mean the C doesn't stand for anything? How will you know how well you've done?" Arthur asked. Honestly, a grading system where the letters stood for nothing? How did these American academies function?

"It's just a scale from F to A, F being the lowest and A being the highest…I guess F stands for fail, though, but that's the only letter I know that actually stands for something…" Alfred answered while leading them up a flight of stairs.

"So then what happens when you get an E? Is that considered passing?"

Alfred just laughed again, causing Arthur to furrow his brows. "And just what the bloody hell is so funny?"

"N-nothing," Alfred said, trying to hold back his chuckles. "It's just that everything is so different over here, you know?" He looked at Arthur, as if he expected him to understand. With no response, he continued, "Also, there's no E in the grading system. It's A, B, C, D, and F. We skip the letter E."

Arthur sighed. He should have known. The United States of America made absolutely no sense whatsoever. "I can't imagine what your Muggle grading system must be like…" Arthur muttered as they walked down a hallway. Arthur had no idea where Alfred was leading him, but apparently he knew a "really awesome place to study".

"That _is_ the Muggle grading system. We use it," Alfred said simply, turning a corner until they were in front of a portrait of a very plump woman.

"What? Why would you use the Muggle's grading system?" Arthur asked.

"Well, what's the point of changing the grading system? It'd be too confusing to keep converting grades like that."

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. What the hell were American schools like? "I have no idea what you're talking about. Just explain it to me later, preferably after you tell me why we've stopped in front of a painting," Arthur said, gesturing before him.

The woman in the painting was looking warily at Arthur for some reason. Alfred smiled at her and spoke. "Hello, ma'am! Fanged Geranium!"

Arthur looked to Alfred as if he were insane. "What are you on about, Jones?"

"Oh!" said Alfred, turning to face Arthur. "This here is the Painted Lady. She leads to the Gryffindor common room!"

"What?" Arthur shouted, but before he knew it, the Painted Lady moved to reveal a hidden doorway to the Gryffindor common room. Arthur's eyes were wide. He wasn't supposed to know where Gryffindor common room was. He wasn't allowed anywhere near it! "Jones…" Arthur whispered in a daze.

"It's Alfred, and c'mon Artie," Alfred said as he walked through the doorway. A glow of crimson and gold shone behind him. Arthur looked all around the entranceway, as if there were booby traps hidden somewhere specifically to catch Slytherin students.

By that time, Alfred had noticed that Arthur still hadn't walked inside. Turning around, Alfred gave him a puzzled look. "What's wrong, dude?"

"What's wrong?" Arthur asked, shocked. "I'm not going in there! It's not allowed!"

"What do you mean?"

"Jones! I know you're naïve, but if we're not allowed to sit at the same table, what makes you think we'd be allowed to go into each other's common rooms?" There was no getting through this boy's thick head! He just didn't understand the customs and the social order of Hogwarts.

Alfred sighed. "Arthur, all my stuff's in here. We'll just head to my room and work. It's not like we're doing anything bad or something…"

Arthur fidgeted on the spot. It seemed he really had no other choice. It was for his education, after all… But they couldn't even go to the library?

"What about the library? Why can't we study there?"

Alfred sighed. "It's obvious you're smart when it comes to books, but you suck at actually brewing the potions. We can't do that in the library." His expression was resolute.

Letting out a sigh, Arthur walked through the doorway into the Gryffindor common room. As soon as he stepped inside, all the students gave them a look…a very unwelcome look. Arthur tried not to notice their staring and focused on Alfred instead. He was currently walking up a flight of stairs, no doubt leading to the dormitories. Arthur followed suit, and soon they were both entering the fourth-year boy dormitories. The messiest bed was probably Alfred's, Arthur assumed.

There was another person in the room. He had a pale complexion, complete with silver hair and red eyes. If Arthur was correct, he believed his name was Gilbert.

Gilbert's eyes narrowed as he saw the two of them walking in. "Hey Jones, what's the big idea bringing Kirkland in here?" he asked as he glared at Arthur.

Alfred didn't seem to realize the tension in the atmosphere. "I'm tutoring this guy because he sucks ass at Potions!" he said while pointing his thumb towards Arthur behind him. Arthur huffed and crossed his arms.

Although it appeared as if Gilbert wanted to laugh at Alfred's comment, he managed to keep a straight face and responded, "You're not supposed to bring Slytherin scum in here, Alfred. It's very not awesome."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "You shouldn't be saying anything, Gilbert. You've broken more rules than that blasted poltergeist Peeves has. And besides," Arthur said, his tone taking on an air of importance, "I'm a Prefect. I can do as I please."

"Whatever dude," Gilbert said as he clambered off his bed and began to walk toward the door. But, before he left the room, he whispered into Alfred's ear, "Just because you're the new big shot in Gryffindor doesn't mean you get special privileges." And with that, he walked out the door.

Now alone, Arthur stood awkwardly by the doorway while Alfred made himself comfortable. "Alfred…?" Arthur asked tentatively. Didn't all of this negative attention by his peers bother Alfred in the slightest?

"Yeah?" Alfred responded as he began to push around piles of junk that littered the floor by his bed, making room for both of them to sit and study.

Arthur frowned. "Don't any of those looks bother you?" Arthur asked, walking towards Alfred and sitting in the spot that he had just cleared on the floor.

"What looks?" Alfred asked, looking at Arthur with a smile on his face. Arthur couldn't believe that anyone was this oblivious.

Before Arthur could further clarify, Alfred was already pulling out a pile of books out from under his bed. There were titles such as _Memory Potions and their Effect on Neuron Signaling Pathways_, _The Quantum Mechanical Theories Behind Charms_, and _Astrophysics for Morons_. Reading these titles, Arthur felt like the moron. He didn't understand any of it. If Arthur hadn't known better, he'd say that these were Muggle topics.

But that couldn't be right. Perhaps American wizarding academies had a different curriculum… a very different curriculum, by the looks of it.

Arthur looked around him some more. In a corner by Alfred's nightstand were textbooks Hogwarts had assigned. Amongst the pile was a book on Muggle Studies.

Ah. So Alfred was interested in Muggles.

Arthur tried not to overreact. There were plenty of other students who took Muggle Studies…students who actually _liked_ Muggles and their pathetic ways… It didn't stop anger from festering inside of Arthur. He couldn't stand Muggles. He loathed them all, especially a certain Muggle who made his life a living hell…

But he shouldn't be thinking about _that_. After all, at least he was still in Slytherin, somehow…

It was just…why was Alfred taking such a class? Didn't he realize that wizards and Muggles shouldn't mix? That there should be no associating with Muggles if you were a respectable wizard?

Their blood was filthy. Impure. Tainted. They were ignorant and thought they owned the world, while little did they know that there was a better society hiding behind their backs all this time. Muggles contributed nothing of value to society. In Arthur's opinion, they should be considered lesser beings.

Which was precisely why Arthur's siblings treated him as such.

"So…I see you're taking Muggle Studies…" Arthur tried to mention offhandedly.

"Huh?" Alfred said, pulling out a cauldron that had been tucked away under his bed, along with a few potion books and some ingredients. 'Alfred must really love Potions…' Arthur thought.

"I said, I see you're taking Muggle Studies, Jones," Arthur said cooly.

"Oh, yeah! I'm pretty interested in learning how you guys here in England view Muggle society. Also, I heard that class was an easy A. Oh wait! I mean O!" Alfred corrected with a smirk on his face. How Arthur wanted to wipe that smirk off…and he didn't really know why.

"Well, I can tell you that here in England, there are many wizards who despise Muggles…surely it's the same in America?" he asked curiously.

"Uh, I guess there are a few witches and wizards who don't like Muggles," Alfred said thoughtfully, a hand scratching his head, "but I think our wizarding society cares more about integration rather than separation."

Arthur's eyes grew wide. Integration? With Muggle society? Arthur knew that, yes, sacrifices had to be made to live in modern society where Muggles still existed, but integrating the societies together? "Are you fucking kidding me?" Arthur whispered, more to himself than to Alfred, who hadn't noticed Arthur's comment at all.

The whole situation seemed to intrigue Arthur, but disgust him at the same time. He wasn't sure if he really wanted to know what America was like anymore if a majority were friendly toward the Muggle population.

He squeezed his eyes shut. Now was not the time to start picking arguments with Alfred. He needed his help, after all. They should be focusing on Potions, not Arthur's inane questions. He quickly changed the subject.

"So, have you always enjoyed Potions?" Arthur asked as he watched Alfred set up the cauldron, heating the bottom with a spell that wouldn't accidently set the carpet on fire.

"You bet!" was Alfred's distracted response. After he was done setting up the materials, he looked up at Arthur. "It's just like chemistry!"

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "What the bloody hell is chemistry?"

Now Alfred's eyes widened. "You don't know chemistry? Like, you don't know about atoms or molecules or solutions or acids or bases or…anything?" He sounded shocked, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

Arthur's face reddened. "I-I have no idea what you're talking about! Is chemistry some form of magic you practice in America or something?"

Alfred looked like he was about to have a heart attack. "Dude, I can't believe you've never learned any chemistry…" he said while shaking his head slowly. "It's like…how do I explain it? I guess chemistry is…how we can explain the world around us at a microscopic level. We're all made of tiny particles called atoms, and chemistry helps to explain atomic behavior. Um, get it?"

The information flew right over Arthur's head.

Apparently Alfred noticed that Arthur didn't understand, so he just laughed and said he'd talk about it another time. How was it that this boy was an absolute dolt when it came to knowing academic and social rules, but he knew about foreign magical subjects? Chemistry didn't even sound magical…it sounded like something a Muggle would learn.

"Just how old are you, Jones?" Arthur asked, feeling stupid in comparison to this boy who appeared to excel in subjects that were beyond Arthur's own comprehension.

"I'm 15. Why?"

"Oh," Arthur said, surprised. He could have sworn Alfred was younger than him. "I'm 15 as well… I assumed that since you were a fourth-year, you'd be younger."

"Nope!" Alfred said with a smile. "I guess my grades only qualified me to be a fourth-year, huh?"

"Yes, I suppose…" Arthur said quietly. Curiosity was gnawing in his mind, prompting him to ask, "How…did you manage to transfer to Hogwarts?"

Alfred looked like a deer caught in the headlights. "Uh, I'll tell you another time, dude. Right now, let's work on some stirring techniques," he said quickly, looking down into a potions book.

This American boy was turning into more of a mystery every day. It wasn't just his culture anymore, but his person. Arthur supposed he'd be spending quality time with Alfred now that the American was his official "tutor". Arthur hoped he taught as well as he performed in class.

With a determined attitude, Arthur listened to Alfred's advice and spent the evening brewing potions as best he could.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoyed the latest chapter! Critiques are loved :)

Also, here's a **disclaimer** which I forgot to put at the beginning of this fic: I do not own Hetalia, nor do I own Harry Potter. But a girl can dream :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Different**

**Chapter 4**

As the first few weeks passed, Arthur actually found himself improving.

He and Alfred would intensively review different brewing techniques in Alfred's room as well as study and perform the preparation of various ingredients Alfred had gotten from Professor Slughorn. Sometimes the two of them were allowed in the Potions classroom late at night if the potion couldn't be brewed in the dormitories.

Alfred would have him perform techniques over and over and over again until he got it just right. Arthur found himself frequently put on the spot with what Alfred liked to call "surprise quizzes of awesome", in which he would shout out a random question or task for Arthur to complete.

Although Arthur wouldn't have believed at the beginning of his tutoring, he found Alfred's methods to be highly effective. Arthur's problem with Potions class was forgetting what he was supposed to do the instant he was in the classroom. Since Alfred frequently put him on the spot, Arthur was more prepared for that anxious feeling he got every time he had to brew a potion during class.

But, he was by no means a master with Alfred's tutoring. Arthur still had his problems. Both boys still couldn't figure out how Arthur had managed to set water on fire, twice, but both were in it together searching for the solution. Professor Slughorn was delighted with his progress, and his grade for his latest potion was an A for acceptable, much better than the Ds (for dreadful) he had been receiving before.

In all, Arthur had to say he was grateful for Alfred's help. The boy was an incessant chatterbox filled with layer upon layer of information regarding potions. It must have been his true passion back in America since he always got so worked up about it. However, no matter how bright Alfred was in Potions, it couldn't take away from the fact that he utterly failed in another subject.

A History of Magic.

"What do you mean you don't know who Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody is?" Arthur asked in shock.

Alfred gave him a hopelessly confused look. "I just…don't?" Arthur's gaze was unnerving Alfred. He was tugging on the collar of his shirt. "Sounds like you're talking about an insane Cyclops to me…" he trailed off.

Arthur shook his head in disbelief. "Please tell me you know the important historical figures of the Second Wizarding War."

"Uh…Harry Potter?"

"Well everyone knows Harry Potter, you dolt!" Arthur shouted, holding the side of his face in frustration. "Does Hermione Granger ring a bell? Ron Weasley?"

"Well, I've heard of those names before…I don't really know the full story though…"

Arthur didn't think his eyes could open any wider. Nor did he think there could be anyone who existed in the world who didn't know the story of the people surrounding Harry Potter.

"Just…just how cut-off from civilization are you?" Arthur asked, appalled.

"Why are you giving me that look?" Alfred asked accusingly. "I don't know about the shit that goes on in Europe! I just pay attention to what's going on in my country, ok?" he said defensively. "And besides, it's not like you know what's going on in America either." He crossed his arms and Arthur could've sworn he saw a slight pout on his face.

Perhaps it was true that both clearly had no clue what was going on in each other's respective countries. However, that was no excuse for being unaware of such a major portion of wizarding history. Arthur could understand Alfred not knowing the specifics of wizarding history in England, but enough was enough.

"I'm tutoring you," Arthur stated bluntly.

"Huh?"

"I said I'm tutoring you. In history. You can think of it as a sort of 'thank you' for your help," he stated, even though he wasn't actually volunteering to do this as a sort of "thank you". He felt a compulsion to teach Alfred who was obviously too ignorant about important matters for his own good. And he wasn't taking no for an answer.

Arthur supposed Alfred could sense his determination to teach him, and he held no objections. He needed to pass that class regardless and Arthur was filled to the brim with knowledge of wizarding history in England. It was perfect. Alfred could tutor Arthur in Potions, and in turn, Arthur could tutor Alfred in a History of Magic.

And so began their little system. Multiple times a week, both boys would be studying closely together, yelling at each other for a lack of understanding, and learning more about one another as the days progressed.

A few weeks into their new studying routine, Arthur found himself lying on the floor of Alfred's room surrounded by books and parchment. Potion recipes were scattered across the carpet and historical texts littered the foot of the bed. The dormitories were empty. This occurred frequently whenever Arthur stepped inside the Gryffindor common room. It turned out that, as a Prefect, he was allowed to know the location and enter the other common rooms in the school…it just hadn't been enforced (or known about) in decades.

Arthur wasn't sure how the school felt about Alfred. On one hand, he was a sort of foreign celebrity. He was amazing at Quidditch and the girls loved him. But then, he had his bad sides. No one liked how he was seen hanging out with Arthur. The students in Gryffindor despised having "Slytherin scum" in their common room. There was a mixture of reactions, but overall, most of them were positive.

Arthur wasn't too sure what he felt about Alfred either. He was grateful, very much so, and it was obvious Alfred was bright. He exuded a sort of happiness and ignorance that Arthur wasn't sure he had ever encountered before. It was almost…nice.

That didn't mean Alfred still didn't have his bad traits.

But, Arthur wouldn't dwell on those. For now, Alfred was tolerable. And besides, tutoring sessions were the perfect opportunity for questions.

"So, what are the American wizarding academies like?" he asked casually, lifting his head from the gibble gabble potion he'd be making in Potions class the next day. Alfred was helping him learn how to add the gibbles to the solution without breaking them, something very difficult to do.

Alfred shrugged his shoulders in response. "I don't know. What do you mean?"

"I mean," Arthur began, "what's it like? How does Hogwarts differ from your school?" He had been dying to hear about Alfred's experience for weeks, and they were both worn out from their intensive studying anyway. Might as well make conversation.

"Hm…" said Alfred as he lied back on his bed, a copy of _Astrophysics for Morons_ lying on his chest as his arms circled around it. "There's a lot of things that are different… The food here is really different, but not in a bad way, I guess. Wish there were hamburgers," he said with a smile as he sat up on his elbows to look at Arthur.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Besides food. We both know about your obsession with burgers."

Alfred gave a chuckle. "Yeah, guess you're right. Ok then…um, I guess the subjects here are just really different is all." He picked up his astrophysics book and stared at it for a moment. "Like your astronomy class. I mean, yeah, for the short while that I had the course we studied the surface of Jupiter's moons and other cool things like that…but our professor just kept insisting that constellations had 'mystical powers'," he said while wiggling his fingers.

"What? You don't believe in mystical powers? Sort of bizarre, coming from a wizard," Arthur added in sarcastically.

And suddenly, there was a slight gleam in Alfred's eye. "Well, I don't believe in divination or crap like that, but I _do_ believe in magic!"

"Oh, I was under the impression you thought the world around you was an illusion," he responded as he crossed his arms.

"Ah, shut up Artie, I haven't told you everything yet!" Alfred fully sat up now, practically bouncing in excitement for, well, something. "I said I believe in magic, but you know what I want to do?" he asked, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I want to discover the secret to magic."

His smile became unbelievably bright after he said that. It was as if he was revealing the most exhilarating news in the world. However, Arthur didn't understand.

"What do you mean, the 'secret to magic'?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I mean discovering the science behind the magic, Artie!"

"You mean…figuring out why magic exists or something?" Arthur asked, unsure if this is what Alfred meant.

"Yeah, sort of! It's like, I want to know why magic occurs, what causes objects to levitate, why wands respond the same way to commands in different languages, why potions can affect the body like they do… I want to know it all!" Alfred looked like he was about to explode from joy. Arthur, on the other hand, furrowed his brows.

"You can't…you can't discover the fucking 'secret to magic'! It's _magic_. It's not supposed to be explainable!" Arthur argued.

"Well, then how did we come up with all these spells in the first place? You're taking arithmancy, right? That's a class all about the magic properties of numbers and how wizards have utilized them over the years. Obviously magic has a foundation behind it, and I want to know what that foundation is!" Alfred was biting his bottom lip, his eyes bright as he looked towards Arthur with childish delight.

But in Arthur's mind, Alfred was spewing total blasphemy. "Discovering why magic occurs completely takes away the fact that it's magic! It's wonderful as it inspires both awe and terror. To take away it's element of mystery just sounds…it sounds like something a muggle would want to do or something!" Arthur was becoming exasperated with Alfred's nonsense.

"It's not like I'm the only one who feels this way, dude," Alfred said. "Magicists have been trying to discover the microscopic properties of magic for years!"

"What the hell is a Magicist?"

"God, don't you wizards in England know _anything_?" Alfred asked. Since when had the tables turned to have Alfred confused about the wizarding ways in England? "Magic scientists! Ok, the name isn't that clever or anything, but it's still kind of obvious what they do."

Arthur stared at Alfred with a blank look.

Alfred looked back with a desperate one of his own.

"…maybe England's a lot different than I thought," said Alfred as he plopped back down on his bed. "I just… really want to know why magic exists. There's this theory going around that magic occurs through particles of antimatter reacting with normal particles of matter, and those high energy combustions, if controlled, give rise to the ability to manipulate the physical world around us…" He looked to Arthur to see if he understood, but of course, Arthur just couldn't comprehend what was being said. The gleam in Alfred's eye dimmed before it was brought back with new determination.

"To me, Arthur, it just sounds so, so…fucking _awesome_. I guess that's why I love Potions. I just really like knowing how the different properties of the ingredients affect the potion it's used in. There's a reason Devil's Snare root causes constriction in potions. There's a reason gibbles are used to create potions that can be very unstable, since they're unstable themselves. I'm sure that one day, everything about magic will make sense…and I want to be a part of that." Alfred turned his head on the bed to face Arthur. His smile wasn't huge or bright as it normally was. This smile was warm. This was a passion close to his heart, and even though Arthur didn't fully understand, and even though something inside of him told him that what Alfred was doing was blasphemous, Arthur couldn't help but feel a slight touch of hope for him to reach his dream.

Silence reigned in the room for a few moments before Alfred spoke up again. "So, what about you?"

Arthur snapped out of his slight daze. "Huh? What?"

"I said, what about you? What do you want to do when you're finally free from school?" Alfred asked, that smile still on his face, in his eyes and expression.

"I…I'm not really sure," Arthur answered. "I mean, I do love history. I'd love to study wizarding history and other wizarding cultures, but…it's best I receive a job at the Ministry. I can't go about wasting my time with books when I could actually _be_ someone of importance later on in life."

The smile faded. "Do you want to work for the Ministry?"

"I mean, of course I do! Everyone in my family for generations has worked in the Ministry at some point or another… It's only right I do the same," Arthur said with conviction.

"I didn't ask you about your family! I asked about you! 'Cause to me, it doesn't sound like you want to work for the Ministry. Why can't you become a historian or something?"

Arthur wanted to roll his eyes, but found that he couldn't. "A historian would require further schooling and little pay. It's a job not worth my valuable time."

At this point, Arthur began to gather his books into his arms. "H-hey!" Alfred began. "Where're you going?"

"I've got to go, Alfred, I'll see you for tutoring tomorrow," Arthur said in a rushed voice before quickly heading out the door.

Once back in the Slytherin dormitories, Arthur allowed the familiarity of the room to bring him back to his familiar mindset. i_Working for the Ministry is a fine job…you'll enjoy it. Your brothers enjoy it. Your father is a high ranking member, for goodness sake! You need to make your family proud, you have to prove you're not worthless, you have to show them that you're good for _something…

But the way Alfred had spoken earlier…with such passion and adoration for a subject he loved. Arthur had that passion…and yet, he didn't. He didn't have that passion because he wouldn't allow himself to. If he gave into his emotions too much, he'd end up as more of a disappointment to his family than ever before. He'd be a disappointment to himself.

A historian. What kind of bloody job was that?

Arthur glanced towards a dusty corner in an obscure part of the common room. A spider was walking along its web, continuing to spin its delicate thread in new directions. It was constructing its home, tiny strands of thread going this way and that, allowing the spider to have a stable spot in its little corner.

A creeping anger loomed upon Arthur. He approached the corner and knelt down. He took out his want and aimed it at the spider. Arthur didn't know why he was feeling the way he did, or why he was so frustrated over a little spider, but it didn't matter. "_Diffindo_" he muttered, ripping the spider's web apart into tiny, obscure pieces. Its home was destroyed, the directions of the thread gone, and Arthur didn't receive the sense of satisfaction he had been hoping for…Instead, he felt lost.

* * *

**A/N:** Once again, late update. Classes have started, so I can usually only write a little bit everyday throughout the week, but this particular update is late because my laptop died x_x It decided it didn't like to turn on, so I actually lost the files for this fic last weekend until my dad managed to work magic and fixed it for me for a few days. It died again just yesterday, but luckily I've been emailing myself my fanfiction files (and my homework files, those are important too :'D), so even if I can't get my laptop back or anything, I'll still have all my work! :)

Also, I've decided that I'll update every weekend (Friday and Saturday nights). This just works out really well with my schedule, so I hope you guys don't mind.

Hope you enjoyed and critiques are loved~


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